Monty

by Tina Martin

  “What do you love about her exactly?” he asks.

  “Her smile. Her work ethic. Her drive. Determination. She’s a phenomenal woman.”

  “Yet, you didn’t notice her for two whole years.”

  “That’s not true. I noticed her. I just never said anything to her.”

  “Why not?”

  “I didn’t want to. I’m not like you—I don’t develop friendships with people on a whim. I’m more reserved.”

  “You ain’t all that reserved. You were at her so hard before the accident, you had her sneaking around the house trying to avoid running into you.”

  “I know.”

  “Why were you at her like that?”

  “I think it was the fact she talked to me in a way that most people fear.”

  “So, she’s a challenge.”

  “She’s—she’s different from everything I know. From all the women I know and I really hate that she’s not coming with us tonight.”

  “Maybe she didn’t think it was appropriate.”

  “That’s exactly what she said, but I told her it was okay—that I wanted her to come and she wouldn’t consider it. Something’s wrong and I don’t like the fact that I don’t know her well enough to pinpoint what the problem might be. I don’t know her friends or family. I don’t know anything about her.”

  “I know she’s an only child,” Major says.

  “Well, I do know that much. I know she lost her father at an early age.”

  “Yep, and she’s not on good terms with her mother.”

  I glance over at my brother. “How do you know that?”

  “We’ve talked about it. Me and Cherish used to talk all the time, but it was always general stuff. If you really want to find out what’s bothering her, I would suggest either being patient and talking to her about it like a real boyfriend or talking to her neighbor, Ms. Kettleworth.”

  “Real boyfriend. You’re funny. And how do you know Ms. Kettleworth?”

  “I took Cherish home one day last year. The old lady came out of nowhere, standing in the yard in a pair of dirty overalls and stringy hair, looking all in the car. Freaked me out for a minute until Cherish told me who she was.”

  This conversation between me and Major so far lets me know he’s a lot closer to Cherish than he led on. He knows where she lives. Knows her neighbor. They used to talk all the time, he said. It irks me.

  “Did you tell Cherish about Paige?” I ask him.

  “No. Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just trying to find out why she hasn’t been herself this week.”

  “Nah, I haven’t said a word. Maybe mother told her.”

  “I thought about that, but I don’t see why she would have a reason to.”

  “Just talk to Cherish. She’s easy to talk to. It’s one of the things I adore about her,” he says. I don’t know if he’s trying to get under my skin but it’s working.

  I change the subject by asking, “What do you expect from this meeting with Magnus?”

  “Well, first of all, you probably shouldn’t be looking at it like a meeting. After all, he is our brother.”

  “Yeah. A brother we don’t know. I have no idea what he’s like.”

  “I know a lil’ something about him. He owns a company called MJS Communications, based out of Charlotte—one he started, so he has good business sense.”

  “Is he married? Does he have kids? Has he ever tried searching for us?” I ask.

  “That, I don’t know, but we’re here so we’ll find out soon enough.”

  Major goes up the long driveway to reveal a mansion, a little smaller than mine. Gorgeous house with well-kept grounds.

  We park, walk up to the door, ring the bell. A woman answers the door. Says her name is Lucille. My guess is she’s the housekeeper.

  “Amazing,” she says staring at us like we’re movie stars. “Come on in, gentleman.”

  “Thank you,” I tell her.

  We follow her through a grand entrance on to an even grander living room until we get to the dining room.

  I’m stricken with a bout of anxiety, wondering what we’re dealing with. I’m usually cool and carefree. In this case, things are different. We’re dealing with a long-lost brother. Old family matters. Wounds that haven’t healed. Then there’s Magnus. What if I don’t like him? What if he doesn’t like us? How did he grow up? Did he always have money? Who were his foster parents? Are they still alive? Does he remember mom and dad?

  I hear voices. Must be Magnus talking to Lucille. Me and Major don’t say a word. Just sip on cucumber water that’s been provided for us. We hear the voices get closer.

  And closer.

  And then…

  “Good evening.”

  I turn to look at the man whose voice sounds like mine to see that he also looks like me. Looks like the three of us could be triplets. We have the same features – green eyes, black hair. Same height. Same complexion. Looking at him is like looking in the mirror.

  I have no doubt he’s my brother. I’m in such shock, I can’t move. I just sit and stare. Major does the same.

  “Hi. I’m Magnus.”

  Major get up, walks over to him. They slap hands then hug – not the half-hug that men do – but a hug of a person who has finally reconnected with a long lost sibling.

  Their embrace doesn’t end. It lingers.

  Lingers as they fight back tears like men do even though the circumstances call for it.

  Their embrace tightens.

  I swallow the lump in my throat.

  We’re brothers.

  We’re family.

  We’re broken.

  Joined by blood, but broken.

  I join them – my brothers – dividing this hug into thirds as we all struggle to hold in our tears until our throats hurt from tightening.

  It’s when I realize we’re men who’ve been damaged. No fault of our own, but it’s what life has handed us – the hand we were dealt. And now we’re here. Together. We’ve found each other.

  We’re brothers again.

  Over dinner, we get to know Magnus in more detail. He’s married to a woman named Shiloh. They have twins on the way. He tells us about MJS Communications and how successful his company is. We have that in common. Successful business ventures.

  We eventually get to the meat of the conversation by diving into the past when Major asks, “So, were you in a foster home as well?”

  “I was.”

  “Interesting. It’s funny how the mind works. I used to think you were the only one our parents kept and they gave me and Montgomery away. It gave me a reason to dislike you. To never take that extra step to find you.”

  “And all along I was in foster care. My foster mother died about a year and a half ago. What about you two?”

  “We were in foster care as well,” I tell him. “Our foster parents were Caspian and Sylvia Hawthorne. He died three years ago. Our foster mother, Sylvia, is still alive and well.”

  Magnus nods.

  I notice right away he and I are a lot alike, more so than me and Major. Magnus doesn’t come across as the casual, laid back kind. He’s more of the let’s-get-stuff-done type. He doesn’t smile much. Just want to get right down to business.

  “It was difficult growing up without that parental support, and I’m talking biological parents,” Magnus says.

  “It was,” Major adds. “It makes you feel unwanted.”

  I nod in agreement then say, “It plays with your mind because you’re a man and you want to be strong like a man is supposed to be but that feeling of being unwanted always lingers in the back of your mind. And for me, no matter how much money I made or how much I did to advance my company, I still carried that awful feeling that my parents didn’t want me.”

  “I felt the same way,” Magnus said. “But Mason helped me put some things in perspective.”

  “Mason?” Major asks. “Who’s that?”

  “He’s our biological father�
��s brother, so in other words—”

  “He’s our uncle,” I say.

  “Yes. I just found out about him. We talk on the phone often now and I’ve met up with him a few times. He gives me some background on the family. Told me our father’s name was Micah St. Claire. Biological mother, Abigail Miller who’s also deceased. I think after she died, Micah turned us over to the state. Probably couldn’t handle the responsibility of being a single man with three boys. Anyway, me and Mason have been trying to get everybody together for months, but our schedules are always off.”

  “Everybody like who?” I ask.

  “Well, Mason has four sons—our first cousins—Ramsey, Royal, Romulus and Regal. Also, according to Mason, after our mother died, dad got himself together and remarried, moved to South Carolina where he lived with his new wife and three kids until he passed.”

  “What?” I ask, my heart racing. “Are you telling me we have half-siblings?”

  “According to Mason, yes.”

  “Wow,” Major says. “This is insane.”

  “Do we have any way of reaching them?”

  “Mason and Micah weren’t close so Mason didn’t get to know Micah’s new wife or their children. All he knew was that the wife’s name was Zayda. Said she had two sons who he thought were twins and a daughter.”

  “We need to find them,” Major says.

  “One step at a time, Major,” I say. “We just found Magnus.”

  Magnus cracks an easy smile. He looks at both of us in a quizzical way then asks, “How are your lives?”

  The question sounds odd to me. It leaves the door wide open to start talking about anything. Then again, that’s exactly what we need – to know everything about each other. But I also recognize it won’t happen in one evening over dinner.

  “My life is okay,” I answer. “Our foster parents were wealthy. Pretty much left us billionaires.”

  Magnus nods. “I researched Hawthorne Innovations. Very impressive.”

  “Yeah, well, I can’t take credit for something my father built,” I tell him.

  Major shakes his head. “Don’t listen to him, Magnus. Dad taught Monty everything he knows.”

  “What about you?” Magnus asks Major. “What do you do?”

  “I work for the business as well. I’m not an inventor, though. I’m on the marketing side of things.”

  “Either of you married?” he asks.

  “No,” Major says.

  He looks at me and I answer the same, my mind instantly going to those documents I signed. And Paige. And Cherish.

  “I was married before Shiloh. Had a son, too, but they both died. I hit a low point in my life after that, and then Shiloh came along. That’s why I asked you two how your lives were. I wasn’t necessarily talking about money, because I know you have money. I have more money than I could ever spend and I was suicidal because my life wasn’t what it should’ve been. I had the world at my fingertips, yet, I had nothing. I know we have a lot of catching up to do, but as the oldest, I feel it’s my duty to offer you some advice.”

  “Which is?” Major asks.

  “The money means nothing. The prestige, the accolades, the spotlights in business magazines – it’s futile if your relationships are not in order. And I’m talking all kinds of relationships – mother, brother, friends, girlfriends. You can try, but you can’t replace people with money.”

  I nod, understanding this fact recently thanks to Cherish. The more I think about her tonight, the more I wish she was here. The more I wish she was here, the more I wonder why she’s not.

  “Monty,” Major says tapping his wine glass with a fork to get my attention.

  “Oh, sorry. I zoned out there for a minute. What’s up?”

  “I just asked if you wanted more wine,” Magnus says.

  “I’ll pass,” I tell him. I glance at my watch. It’s already after ten. We’ve been talking for over four hours. “I think we should pause this conversation and pick it up again real soon.”

  “Yeah. You’re right,” Magnus says. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”

  Major stands. “That’s what happens when you reconnect with your long-lost brother. Time flies by and we still haven’t scratched the surface.”

  Magnus stands and I join them.

  “Next time, you’ll get to meet Shiloh. She wasn’t feeling well, so she ate early and went to bed.”

  “No problem,” I tell him. “We got you now, bruh. There’s no getting rid of us now.”

  “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

  Magnus walks us to the door where we embrace again and make promises to keep in touch. They’re not empty promises. We’ve been apart too long to let more time separate between us.

  “When I nail down this meeting with Mason and his family, I’ll let you know.”

  “Does Mason live in Charlotte, too?” Major asks.

  “Yes, but all his sons live in Cornelius—you know the Lake Norman area.”

  “Right. I’m familiar,” I tell him. “Ay, let us know when we can meet and we’ll go from there.”

  * * *

  On the drive home we’re quiet, soaking it all in. Then Major asks, “So, what did you think about Magnus?”

  “He’s cool.”

  “Yeah, I thought so. He’s a lot like you.”

  “And you determined that in a few hours.”

  “Sure did. Don’t tell me you didn’t see it, too.”

  “I did. He is a lot like me.”

  “It’s crazy about the half brothers and sister. I never thought of that possibility.”

  “Me either.”

  “How do you feel about meeting them?”

  “I definitely want to meet them. Absolutely.”

  Major sighs. “It all seems wrong, you know. He raised them but neglected us.”

  “Yeah, it is wrong, but I’m realizing you can’t judge anyone without first walking in their shoes. And most times, you still can’t judge them. I don’t know why our parents did what they did, but maybe in the grand scheme of things, we were better off. And, we can take a lesson from it.”

  “Yeah, and what lesson is that?”

  “To not do what they did. I would never give my children up,” I say. “Never.”

  “Children? You want children?”

  A grin comes to my lips. “Why’d you ask it like that?”

  “I honestly didn’t think you had the patience or temperament for kids.”

  “Gee. Thanks, bruh.”

  “I’m serious. I didn’t. Your life has always been the company.”

  “Yeah, well, you heard what Magnus said—the money, wealth, fame, prestige—it doesn’t matter in the end.”

  “Yeah. I can’t believe he was suicidal.”

  “You never know what people are going through,” I say thinking about Cherish again. I have no idea what she’s going through, but I have every intention of finding out.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Cherish

  Tonight’s dream was more gut-twisting than the one from Friday night. Again, I’m soaked with sweat and anxiety when I wake up. My heart beating rapidly as I relived the feeling Webster’s nasty hands on me. This time I’m so shook, I’m in tears. I thought for sure I was over this, being an independent twenty-six-year-old woman and all, but how can I get over something that has never been properly dealt with?

  It resides with me. Haunts me. Even though I try to block it out and make myself forget, it always finds a way to resurface.

  I get up again, get my bat, turn on the lamp next to my bed and do a full search of my house. There’s no one here – I’m sure of it – but the dream was so vivid, so real I feel like I need to make sure no one’s here.

  I can hardly breathe.

  I feel sick.

  Sick and dirty.

  I’m steadily sweating.

  I take deep breaths in an attempt to self regulate. If I don’t, I’m sure I’ll have a panic attack and pass out right here. No one would fi
nd me – not even nosy Ms. Kettleworth.

  “It was just a dream, Cherish,” I tell myself. “It was a dream.”

  It’s three o’clock in the morning and I have to repeat this to myself several times before I’m able to calm down enough to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water. I drink it, then drop my head in full tears. Why do I do this to myself? I’m still his victim. All these years later, he still torments me.

  I’ve researched the issue. I know the statistics:

  *One in three girls are sexually abused before the age of eighteen.

  I was twelve.

  *Thirty percent of sexual abuse is never reported.

  I reported it to my mother. She didn’t believe me. Chose him over me and never reported it to the authorities. Some mother, huh?

  *Ninety percent of sexual abuse victims know the perpetrator.

  I only knew him because my mother married him.

  *There are nearly half a million registered sex offenders in the United States.

  This scared the life out of me. Still does sometimes. It’s why I never wanted to be with anyone. What if he turned out to be one of them?

  *Pedophiles are usually repeat offenders.

  Makes me wonder who else Webster assaulted before he got his hands on.

  Other statistics found that teens who are sexually assaulted usually become promiscuous and have a higher chance of committing suicide. I’ve never had thoughts of suicide, although I have asked myself a million times why this had to happen to me. I also didn’t become promiscuous – looking for sex as a form of love. For me, it was the opposite. It made me distrust men. I was perfectly fine being in the shadows – not being one of those it girls the guys always tried to talk to. I didn’t want that kind of attention. I didn’t want any attention. I just wanted to work and go home.

  That’s it.

  Work, and go home.

  So, I made that my life. I worked myself to death, went home and did it all over again the next day. I couldn’t care less about a man or a relationship.

  That all changed when I first saw Monty. I think, in the beginning, I was more curious about him than anything else. I’d never seen him with a woman. He was always alone outside of anything involving work and mad all the time. I didn’t consider Monty a threat to my personal safety, nor his brother. They weren’t like Webster. They were upstanding, respectful men – men I learned to trust.